CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rook had disappeared down the hall and then a door slammed. I heard his deep voice scolding that woman, who yelled right back. I would’ve given anything to understand what they said, but the language was not English. Perhaps French or some Caribbean dialect?
Who cares? Because he had no right to speak to me that way. Maybe that woman had done me a favor. Yeah, but why would he turn on me like that? It didn’t make any sense.
I returned to my room, shut off the lights, and got into bed. I needed sleep. I needed this shit of a day to end. But an hour later or so, I once again found myself tossing and turning, while lightning and thunder, mixed with gusts of violent wind, rattled the windows nonstop. Meanwhile, my mind whirled in vicious circles, attempting to make sense of everything that had happened to my life. Cici. My dad. Rook. Mr. Price. Everything was a fucking mess and, frankly, I couldn’t be more pissed off at the world.
I guess it’s better than feeling sad. Or completely out of my mind with lust for Rook. Seriously. What had I been thinking? I mean, yes, the way he’d kissed me—so hungry and passionate—and the way his body had moved against mine—like nothing in this world had ever pleased or aroused him more—had been sinful and erotic. And no man had ever worked me up like that, to a point where I’d lost myself completely, only able to think about getting him inside me to release the tension.
“Dammit,” I whispered and rolled onto my side. Thinking about it made my body restless for him.
Ugh. I slipped from bed, hearing the call of scotch or tequila. I headed down the hallway toward the kitchen. Rook had to have something in one of the cupboards.
A light over the pristine gas stove—likely never been used—had been left on. Without making noise, I opened a few cupboards, only finding neatly stacked white dishes and shiny glasses and some meager cooking supplies.
I went to his living room, hoping he’d have scotch somewhere, but the moment I stepped inside, a light through the window caught my eye. Part of me wondered if it was an employee or a guard, but the rest of me panicked, knowing it wasn’t.
Jesus. I’m sleepwalking again. I went to the window and looked out. The figure, carrying a lantern and wearing a dark hooded robe, headed straight for the jungle. Once at the edge of a stand of trees, the tall, shadowy form turned for a brief moment, the lantern in his hands illuminating the silhouette of his face.
“Rook?” I whispered.
Fury dotted my vision. What the motherfucking hell?
Pissed beyond words, I scrambled back to my room, slid on my flip-flops, and bolted outside into the storm, going after Rook. The sky lit up and thunder exploded in the air. It was enough to see the trail ahead, but I definitely could’ve used a damned flashlight.
No time for fucking flashlights. I wanted to know what the hell he was doing, and I wasn’t going to let him feed me some bullshit about this being a dream. Not this time, buddy. I’d caught him red-handed, wearing the damned robe.
Carefully, I walked along the little path in the dark. Each time the lightning struck, I saw a bit more of the trail.
Sonofabitch. How dare Rook fuck around with me like that. He’d made it seem like I’d been losing my mind. Was life one big joke, one big fantasy to him? Well, it wasn’t to me.
After fifteen or so minutes, I finally spotted a faint light through the rain dripping from the trees and pattering rhythmically on the leafy jungle floor.
I came up behind a palm tree, and there he was. Rook.
With his lantern resting on a rock to his side, Rook bowed his head toward the lagoon—the same one I’d wandered off to last night.
Whatthe…
Rook cast off his robe and he kneeled.
Praying. He’s pray—
A loud crack whipped through the air, and I jumped, first thinking it was thunder. But there’d been no lightning. Crack! Crack!
With the faint light from the lantern, I watched Rook flinching.
What is he doing?
Another crack. Another flinch.
Rook’s arm whipped up and the light caught a rope or something.
Fucking hell. Rook was hitting himself.
Dear God. He must’ve done it twenty more times, though I felt too horrified to count. He then got to his feet, spread his arms as if offering himself to the heavens, and stepped forward into the water.
Dark lines marred his broad back. It had to be blood.
He walked forward until the water reached his neck and then went under.
I watched, having no clue what to do or say or how to explain his actions other than the man was mad. Completely mad.
Wait. Where’d he go? Several moments had passed, but he hadn’t come up for air.
Oh no. My mind offered the worst possible explanation because clearly Rook didn’t just have a dark side, he was disturbed.
I stepped around the tree and rushed toward the lagoon as his head came up and he grabbed a big breath.
He immediately spotted me standing right next to his lantern. “No!” He held out his hands. “Do not get in the water!”
I pulled myself back and watched him rush toward me, his arms splashing wildly. “Step back, Stephanie. For fuck’s sake!”
He came out of the lagoon, naked, dripping wet, the lightning creating a strobe effect. He looked so surreal with his hard muscles straining under his smooth olive skin, his long cock hanging low between his powerful thighs, his ripped biceps with bulging muscles.
He charged right for me. “Step the fuck back.”
“Okay. Okay.” I held up my hands, turning my head, thinking he might attack me or something.
Instead, he swiped his rain-soaked robe from the ground and slid it on. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” I poked his chest. “Is this some sick game? You’re whipping yourself and wearing this fucking robe and running around in the middle of the night scratching my window.”
“Those were dreams, Stephanie,” he growled. “I would never play games and torment you like that.”
“Then what is this!” I pointed at his robe.
He swiped his hands over his sopping hair to push it back. “Fucking hell, woman. What is it with you and fucking with my life? This is my home. This is my island. I do not owe you any fucking answers.”
“You said anything!” I yelled over the noise of the rain and thunder. “You said you would do anything to help me. So why not start with the goddamned truth!”
“It’s fucking complicated.” He snarled right as the wind picked up, gusting with a chill.
“Yeah. I realized that when I saw you beating yourself!”
He tilted his face to the sky and burst out with laughter. Not the “haha, it’s so funny” laughter, but the “please kill me now” laughter.
He looked at me, the planes of his face hard and cold. “That water is sacred. And I was beating myself to pay penance because monks are not allowed to kiss and fuck, even if they want to more than anything in the fucking world.”
I felt the air sucked from my lungs. “Did you say…” I swallowed, “monk?”
“I am the last of Friar’s Island, the sacred ground upon which you are standing, and it is my job to care for it. And before you say anything, I will warn you not to pass judgment on that which you do not understand.”
I snapped my mouth shut because, boy-oh-fucking-boy, did I have questions. Like, why did he keep it secret, and where the ever-loving hell did he get off kissing me like that if he was a monk and not allowed to touch women?
Jesus. And the way he’d been in bed, the way he’d moved, his sexual hunger. Now I understood. His desire hadn’t been your plain old vanilla-flavored lust. He’d been breaking some very major rules with me.
Goddammit. He’s a fucking monk? And he helps bring people’s fantasies to life? My mind scrambled, juggling the facts. Rook was a businessman, a handsome, intimidating businessman who had decided to turn his sacred island into a sex-vacation destination. And he used the profit to keep the world off his sacred grounds. All right. I have no words.
I cleared my throat. “Okay.”
“Okay, what!” he snapped.
“Okay. I won’t pass judgment.”
“That’s all?” he said.
“No. That’s not all. But I can’t begin to wrap my head around this or you or how you make me feel.” Yes, okay. So much made sense now, the deep cold vibe, his devotion to protecting this island, and his deeply compassionate side. But what confused the hell out of me was the fact that in this very moment, having removed one more petal, I felt like our connection had grown into something I’d never expected. Call it ego, call it human nature to want what we can’t have, but knowing that Rook felt so strongly about me, enough for him to break his “rule,” only made me want him more.
Rook stared for a long moment, and the air between us sparked with intense emotion.
He stretched out his hand and ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”
I could only imagine what he was apologizing for: I’m sorry that I’m off the market indefinitely. I’m sorry about your father lying to you and that I kept the truth from you about it. I’m sorry for behaving like a heartless asshole and not telling you I’ve taken a vow of chastity. I’m sorry that you ever came here.
“But I’m not sorry,” I said. “If I hadn’t come to this island, I’d still be wondering what happened to Cici.” I drew a breath. “And I never would’ve met you.”
The sky flashed, and he stepped closer, fisting his hands to his sides. “You have no idea what you do to me, Stephanie. It’s taking everything I have not to kiss you again, but if I do, I won’t stop.”
“Would you really have to?” Because the only thing I wanted was to slide my hands over his bare skin and feel his mouth on mine.
He looked at me for a long moment, his nearly translucent eyes reflecting the lantern on the rock beside us. “I’m sorry, Stephanie. But I am the one thing on this island you cannot have.”